When I was about 5 or 6, my mother told me about the garbage bears in Prince Rupert. They'd become habituated to humans and utterly dependant on refuse for food. Because they were so used to people they would wander through town and inevitably maul someone's dog or tip over someone's garbage cans and then animal control was called and the bear would be shot. A tragic illustration of the impact of humans on their environment.
Although I don't remember the story being particularly scary to me at the time it was told, that night I went to bed and woke up having a nightmare: I'd left my bedroom a mess of toys and the garbage bears were going to come and eat me. I got out of bed and cleaned my room.
This, I feel, is the auspicious beginning of a slight tendency towards uncontrollable compulsions of a domestic kind.
Pic credit: Bear Aware BC.
